


Champagne and Stars (what did the universe say)

by jonghhho



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys Kissing, Drinking, Drinking Games, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, House Party, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa if you squint, Kissing, M/M, Minor Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Minor Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, New Year's Eve, New Years, Not Beta Read, One Night Stands, Sexual Tension, Strangers to Lovers, They are not subtle, excessive descriptions of how it feels when wooyoung touches san, strange use of space metaphors, use of korean words which the definitions can be found at the end notes, wooyoung is a tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonghhho/pseuds/jonghhho
Summary: San goes home with a stranger on Halloween night. He doesn't expect to see the same boy, sauntering over to him with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other.“Fancy seeing you here,” the boy says as he comes to a stop just two steps shy of entirely in San’s space. He nods down at San’s empty flute. “Care for a refill?”or; san and wooyoung spend new years running around together and asking the universe for guidance.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Champagne and Stars (what did the universe say)

**Author's Note:**

> happy new years or new years eve to you all!  
> i hope you enjoy this story!!
> 
> please read through the tags before continuing!
> 
> tw // drinking

San goes home with a stranger on Halloween night. Alcohol is pleasantly heating his system and the boy that’s smiling up at him under the lowlights of Yunho and Mingi’s apartment has a pretty smile and the sexiest little mole on his cheek that San just wants to kiss for the rest of the evening. 

And he does. He lays the boy out on his bed and takes him apart piece by piece and watches in amazement as the boy comes untouched more time than San, himself, can count. They go at it like animals in heat except, there’s something magical about it all. It might be the way the boy makes San want to wrap him up in a blanket and give it to him nice and slow in one moment and then his eyes turn dark and he throws his legs around his hips and rides San like his life depends on it. 

Needless to say, it’s the fuck of a lifetime and the two of them are shaking and exhausted when they’re finished. San looks up in surprise when the boy quietly starts pulling on his clothes and frowns. “You know you could stay the night.” 

The look in the boy’s eyes is softer now, though the knowing look of what they’ve just spent the last three hours doing lingers. “I would love to stay, but I’ve got work in the morning.” 

San goes to get up, to walk this boy—this insanely attractive and profoundly unreadable boy—out, but he just leans over and plants one last kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t bother. I had fun.” 

And just like that, he’s out of the door. San hears the sound of the automatic lock going into place and wonders if his roommate is home. He also realizes that the sweet, fresh scent of the boy’s cologne lingers and that he has absolutely no idea what the boy’s name is.

  


Jongho descends on him the next afternoon as he’s busy putting away dishes from the last couple of days. He earns himself a good, solid punch to the shoulder as the younger all but yells into his ear. 

“There was absolutely no reason you couldn’t have just sent me a text saying ‘oh, by the way, kind and caring roommate, i’m going to have sex for-fucking-ever tonight so you might want to stay at Yunho’s or Yeosang’s. Thanks.’” Jongho’s voice rises as San winces at the next light slap that lands on his back. “I had to leave halfway through, in the middle of the night because you two were being insufferable. Thank god Yeosang’s roommate was out for a while last night and thank fucking god he understands what it’s like to be sexiled.”

San takes whatever Jongho gives him, but it’s really not much, the younger getting bored of attacking him fairly quickly. He wraps the other up in a hug and fiercely apologizes, which the younger seems to abhor even more than the noises he’d witnessed the night before. 

“I promise I will warn you before I sexile you again, kind and caring roommate.” 

Jongho groans and all but throws him off onto the couch. “You guys were really going at it last night. Who did you bring back, anyway?” 

“I don’t know. He was so cute and sexy but he had to leave and then I realized I didn’t even get his name.” 

Jongho sputters at this news, eyes going as wide as humanly possible. “You didn’t even get his name before you fucked his brains out?” 

San sighs. “Yea I kind of feel bad.” 

Jongho rolls his eyes. “It’s definitely an asshole move. But hey, at least it sounded like both of you were having fun.”

San nods, frowning at how terrible the situation sounds. But he quickly gets over it and sits up, leaning closer to his roommate and smiling impishly. “Speaking of fun, did you have fun with Yeosang?” 

Jongho huffs and pushes him away as he laughs at the younger’s shyness. “I told you, we’re not like that.” 

“Right. He’s got a soft spot for you, my friend, not people who have been sexiled,” San teases, poking at the younger’s thigh. “Besides, if it was me who’d shown up at his door at ass-o-clock in the morning, he’d have made me sleep in the bathtub.” 

Jongho grumbles and retreats to his room not long after, shooting San a murderous look. “You’re ridiculous,” the younger murmurs before disappearing with the not-quite slamming of his door.

  


San thinks about the boy from that night on occasion. He hasn’t been quite able to forget the boy’s wicked eyes and soft, plump lips and the lovely way his voice pitched up as he came. San tries not to think too much about that night because he finds it riles him up a little more than is necessary. 

He wishes he’d gotten the boy’s name—wishes he’d realized how stupid he would seem sooner. 

In the blink of an eye, Christmas has passed. He’s back in town from spending the holiday with his family, eager to see his friends at their New Year’s celebration. It seems that Yunho and Mingi have been tasked with the party again and the two twin towers are extremely excited about it. 

“Yunho made these pretty dangly star things that we were able to attach to the ceiling. They’re so pretty, Sanie. My boyfriend is a genius,” Mingi says over the phone as San gets on the bus to go home after his shift at the restaurant. 

“Your boyfriend is only a genius to you, Mingi. Remember that time he tried to make pancakes and burnt half of the batter and then undercooked the other half? And that one time he tried to adopt your neighbor’s dog because he found it wandering around in the hallway?” 

“But it was so cute! And the dog looked like it needed a new home, Sanie. You didn’t see the way it was practically begging us to take it away from its owner once we finally figured out who it belonged to. You had to be there; had to see its eyes,” Mingi retaliates. San can practically hear the pout in his voice. “You’re coming early today, right?”

San watches the blur of the city streets go by, snow piled up along the sidewalks, grey and cold and decidedly gross. “Yea, Yunho said I could come for dinner.”

Mingi talks some more until San is outside of his apartment door and then bids him goodbye with an unnecessary dick joke and a series of loud laughs. San can hear him practically throwing himself onto Yunho and is confirmed by Yunho’s laughing out a breathy “bye” before hanging up. 

He goes about some daily activities. He does a small load of laundry and tidies up the kitchen before going to get a shower. When he emerges, hair still wet and shivering a little from the winter chill still lingering in the apartment, he’s surprised to find Jongho busy in the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee. He isn’t supposed to be back for another week or so, not having any engagement and opting to spend the break with his family, but apparently he’s changed his mind.

“Oh, you’re back?” 

The younger looks up at him and shrugs. “I got bored, and you know my family only lives like an hour train ride away. I thought it would be fun to go to the party tonight.” 

There’s a strangeness to the way Jongho seems to fumble with the coffee pod, closing the lid a little too forcefully. There’s also a slight pink tinting his ears and San has a suspicion it’s not because of the cold. He narrows his eyes and looks the younger over for a moment. 

“You’re going to the party for Yeosang, aren’t you?” 

Jongho immediately looks away and San watches with glee as his roommate turns a shade of tomato red. “I- I don’t- what?” 

“I knew it!” San yells, bounding over to his roommate and throwing an arm around him. “Something happened during break, I’m assuming?” 

Jongho doesn’t answer, just stares a little too sternly at the countertop until San stops jerking him around in his own excitement. Then the younger finally sighs and turns to face him, eyes not quite being able to meet his own. “We went on a few dates is all; nothing fancy or anything.” 

San can’t help but feel excitement over the progression of his friends’ relationship. To say that he, Mingi and Yunho had seen it coming from a mile away would be an understatement—especially having had the knowledge that Yeosang had been interested in Jongho since the first day they met. He’d unassumingly let it slip to Yunho, who shared it with San, who advised Yunho against telling Mingi, but the couple does everything together and Mingi gets absolutely irrepressible when he isn’t in on the gossip so…

“You two are already so cute, I’m going to combust tonight,” San says. He finds himself giggling like a school child but he can’t seem to contain himself. And then he catches Jongho’s expression, slightly repressed and looking anxious. San gasps. 

“Oh it’s going to be your first kiss.” He brings his hands up to his lips, eyes going wide and an excited sound bubbling up in the back of his throat. 

Jongho takes a deep breath, laying a hand over his chest and nodding. “I’m just hoping it’s not too soon and that it’ll be...good.” 

San finds himself running around in his and Jongho’s rooms, trying to find his roommate the perfect ‘ _first kiss_ ’ outfit. Jongho seems to be glad to have someone to share his nerves with but also seems slightly put off by San’s excitement. 

“Please don’t make it too big of a deal; I know how overexcited you and the twin towers can get,” Jongho pleads as San yanks a button down off of the younger’s arms and thrusts a purple sweater at him instead. He rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell them to keep it real down-low and you and Yeosang can do it however you see fit. I’m sure Yunho and Mingi will be too all over each other to even notice when the time actually comes,” San assures, looking over the younger as he slips the sweater over his head. He smiles. 

“This is perfect.” 

  


They make their way to Yunho and Mingi’s apartment for dinner and the couple look just as excited as San himself is feeling. They wrap Jongho up in a hug as soon as he steps into the apartment. 

“It’s going to be amazing. I promise you, Mingi and I aren’t going to interfere with anything. It’s all going to be your call,” Yunho assures, but Jongho doesn’t seem to be buying it. 

Dinner arrives only a few minutes behind them. Simple plates of seared meat and vegetables and a hearty soup get laid out along the dining table and they eat as comfortable conversation flows. Jongho rolls his eyes every time Mingi brings up Yeosang and Yunho shushes his boyfriend by giving him a stern look and feeding him some meat. San watches in slight horror as some type of look is exchanged between the couple and Mingi jerks a little and nods, but he tries to ignore it, not wanting to know about what happens with the couple behind closed doors. 

The first party guests arrive about two hours later. San and Jongho help to finish setting up the last of the decorations and Mingi pulls up the timer on the TV and starts the night off with some laid back tunes. Yunho welcomes people by the door, taking bottles of champagne to the kitchen and lining it along the counters and directing them to the alcohol, the food, or to the bathroom.

San says hello to some dance majors that he’s met through Yunho and trades some light chatter with some mutual friends. Mingi introduces him to Hongjoong, a music engineering major that Mingi basically looks up to and Hongjoong in turn introduces San to his boyfriend, Seonghwa who’s got soft grey-ish blond-ish hair and an even softer smile. 

It’s a good forty minutes and fifteen people in that Yeosang arrives with someone in tow. Jongho perks up at the sound of a familiar voice and San and Mingi exchange looks across the room. He’s impressed by the way Mingi nonchalantly goes back to his conversation with Hongjoong. He can’t help but steal a glance as Yeosang moves through the room to immediately find Jongho. They exchange a hug and San wonders if he’s ever seen the two hugging before and then there’s laughter. 

A smug sort of emotion settles through him as he witnesses a little more of the two’s interaction. He turns away and heads back toward the kitchen to refill his champagne. They’ll be just fine.

He waves to Yunho who is welcoming yet another handful of people and rounds the corner into the kitchen when he feels his heart drop into his stomach. He stops at the entryway, blinking astonishedly at a face that is so familiar and so distinctly singular that San feels like he’s never actually seen this person before. 

Except he has. He knows he has. He’s seen every single part of this person’s body. He’s watched the way their face crumples when they climax and knows just where to smooth his tongue over so that they let out that sweet, breathy moan. He knows this person and yet…

The boy turns and looks around for a second, grabbing at the neck of a bottle of champagne in decision and then looks up as he tips the bubbly contents into his tall, plastic flute and meets San’s eyes. Recognition flares so bright that San feels blinded, and then a wicked smile blossoms on the boy’s face. He takes a sip of his champagne and raises his eyebrows and all but saunters over slowly, swaying his hips invitingly. 

His black hair is longer and half tied back into a ponytail. It makes San want to tangle his fingers in it. There’s shadow in the corner of his eyes and shimmer on his cheekbones and San can feel his hand clamping into a fist as the boy nears, nerves fraying and on edge—supplying him with unending images of the delicious sights and sounds that they’d shared just a few months prior.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the boy says as he comes to a stop just two steps shy of entirely in San’s space. He nods down at San’s empty flute. “Care for a refill?” 

San swallows down the lump that has formed in his throat. He can’t seem to shake the shock of seeing _him_ again. He raises his plastic flute and watches, still speechless, as the boy fills it. He chuckles as he sets it back down onto the counter, raising his glass and clinking it with San’s gently before raising it to his lips and taking a sip. San does the same, not missing the way neither of them looks away. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the boy says, raising his eyebrows again. San traces those perfect eyebrows with his eyes and then flicks his tongue out to wet his suddenly dry lips. 

“Maybe I have. Are you sure you’re real?” 

The high pitched laughter is just like he remembers, boisterous and extremely carefree. They get a few looks in their direction but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. “I guess we did sort of ghost each other after that night, huh?” 

San cringes internally, trying to remember if he even managed to give his own name during the exchange. He doesn’t remember though, but something in the back of his mind tells him he hadn’t. He takes a sip of champagne, hoping it’ll give him some of that liquid courage he probably desperately needs right about now. 

“I realized once you’d walked out the door that I never got your name,” San finally manages, blush creeping up to his ears and shame burning in the way he swirls the alcohol in his flute and takes another sip. 

The boy before him chuckles softly, bringing his own flute to his lips and taking a sip. It shouldn’t be so tantalizing because it’s just a boy drinking some champagne, but San finds himself following the movement, blinking somewhat in a daze as the boy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling as if to tease him purposefully.

“I never got yours either. Probably a shame; I could have moaned your name so prettily for you if I’d known.” 

San all but chokes on air, coughing lightly as his eyes widen in surprise at the way the boy leans forward so that he’s finally in his space, wicked eyes glinting with a knowing look—dark and heady and entirely too arousing. He laughs at San afterwards, draining his flute again and moving around him. 

“Wha-” San follows the boy into the living room, eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “Hey.” 

When he finally comes to a stop, he’s looking over the boy’s shoulder at a familiar face done up in shimmer and blush and a hint of shadow too. Yeosang’s hair is blonde now and San almost doesn’t recognize him until he hears his name on the other’s tongue. 

“San?” 

The blonde moves to hug San for just a second and then pulls away with a confused look on his face. Jongho is nowhere to be seen. “What are you two doing? I trust neither of you to be doing anything sane and I trust both of you even less together.” He pauses and then cocks his head to one side. “Wait, I didn’t think you even knew each other?” 

San gawks at Yeosang who seems to be looking between himself and the boy just beside him who is smirking now. San belatedly realizes he still has the entire bottle of champagne in his hand.

“You know him?” San asks and watches in slight horror as Yeosang rolls his eyes. 

“Of course I know him, dumbass. This is Wooyoung, my roommate. That boy I’ve been friends with since middle school? Insufferable loud-mouth and the incomprehensible bane of my existence?” Yeosang answers, raising an eyebrow and shooting _Wooyoung_ a baffled sort of look. 

San gapes. He feels his mouth opening in...well he’s not quite sure. He’s confused and utterly devastated and yet somehow relieved all at the same time. He turns to face Yeosang’s roommate, Wooyoung. The boy he’d taken home on Halloween night and hadn’t forgotten about since. He’d been just out of hand’s reach for so long, and all he had to do was look just one step further. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” the raven haired boy says, smirking up at. The confidence that radiates from him tells San that he’s probably already known. “My name’s Wooyoung.” 

He holds out his hand, waiting for San to recover from shock or immobility. Yeosang looks between them with an even more confused look on his face. He vaguely registers Jongho entering his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t react. He takes the boy’s hand and shakes it firmly, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m San. It’s a pleasure.” 

The silence between their two bodies is deafening between the music and chatter of the party continuing on around them. Wooyoung’s gaze is challenging, but San doesn’t back down either. Their hands are still clasped together and neither of them even blinks. It’s Yeosang that shoves them apart rather delicately. 

“What in god’s name is happening and why do I feel like there’s a ton of sexual tension between you two?” 

Jongho barks out in laughter and that breaks San’s focus. He finally looks away from Wooyoung and looks to his roommate who is standing close to Yeosang, the other halfway leaning into the younger’s space. 

“Your bluntness never ceases to amaze me, best friend,” Wooyoung says, reaching over to pat Yeosang’s shoulder. “Maybe I’ll tell you all about it in the near future, but for now, I’m going to steal this handsome devil away for some party pleasures.” 

Wooyougn grabs his elbow and he can’t help but start at the sudden touch. He gets dragged away from his roommate and Yeosang, the soon to be official (hopefully) couple. San doesn’t protest when Wooyoung pulls him into the small fray of people swaying to the music. He throws his arms around San’s neck and he feels the champagne bottle clunk against his shoulder blades. The raven haired boy smiles widely, leans in close as San situates his hands on either side of the boy’s hips. Their movement is miniscule, eyes locked on each other and San can’t even begin to put into words the strange sensation that’s spreading in his chest. 

“You knew,” he says after a while of silence and Wooyoung’s devilish smile not receding even the slightest. The other just chuckles.

“I kind of figured it out eventually. Just a bit of searching on socials and stuff.”

San huffs but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks down at the raven haired boy. There’s a fluttering feeling deep in his stomach that he can’t quite place and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Wooyougn’s face either, studying every line and angle, lingering on the sexy little mole under his eye and tracing those plump red lips. He sighs a little wantonly as Wooyoung bites his bottom lip. 

“You’re not being very subtle there, my friend,” he says, moving just half a step away. San follows, closing the distance between them again, raising his eyebrows in question. 

“I don’t think subtlety is really our thing,” he answers, hands squeezing at Wooyoung’s hips. The other scoffs a little, head lolling back and then eyes coming back to settle on him, darker and heavier. He raises one eyebrow.

“I didn't realize _we_ had a thing.” 

And then the other is moving out of their shared space, fingertips leaving a tingling sensation on San’s nape as he helplessly trails behind Wooyoung. He follows him through the crowd and into the hallway and then into the second room that Mingi and Yunho set up as a sitting area for the party. It’s actually their gaming room, but Yunho’s dismantled his computer and they’ve moved the couch into this room, proving room to mingle and dance in the living area and a second common area here. 

Wooyougn plops down onto an empty seat in between some people San doesn’t recognize and he stumbles a little, stopping in the perimeter of the circle of people that are sitting and chatting. The sweet aroma of someone’s vape fills the room, tiny tendrils of smoke still clinging to the lowlights on the ceiling. San shifts on his feet a little and glares at Wooyoung who smiles smugly at him from his perch on the couch, raising his eyebrow in something of a challenge.

San glances around at the many faces around him and he finds he only just recognizes a handful of them. Yunho and Mingi have a vast circle of friends—those social butterflies—and it seems that San hasn’t met nearly as many of those friends as he’d originally thought. He steps around someone’s legs and then apologizes as he slides the coffee table back a little and then, with a small clearing of his throat, he settles on the floor just in front of Wooyoung, tucking his feet under the couch and bringing his knees up and resting his elbows on them.

Wooyoung looks down at him, impressed, and then takes a sip from the champagne bottle still in his grip. He then leans forward onto his own knees and brings a hand down to run a finger under San’s chin. It’s a strange sort of gesture and San cocks his head in slight confusion, fluttering returning to his stomach.

“What was that?” He asks, bringing a hand up to run a knuckle against the tingling that’s left behind by Wooyoung’s touch. 

“You’re cute,” Wooyougn hums before taking another sip of his champagne. 

San blinks and then rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly against the coffee table. In the span of just a few minutes he finds he’s forgotten all about the New Year that’s just around the corner. He’s forgotten about the excitement of Jongho and Yeosang’s coupling and the world outside of himself and the raven haired boy before him seems to have been blurred out. 

He finds himself studying Wooyoung again as the boy engages in some conversation with the strangers around him. There’s noise and music and bodies passing and San finds that no matter what he does, he’s entranced by Wooyoung—by the way his lips move and the way his eyes change expressively according to the conversation. He’s entirely enraptured by Wooyoung’s entire being that he doesn’t register anything else going on around him.

When he finally comes to, it’s because Wooyoung moves to get up. He ruffles San’s hair when he looks up in question and mumbles something about the bathroom before dropping his now empty bottle of champagne onto the coffee table and leaving the room. 

San finally takes in his surroundings. There are less people sitting around than before and the seat next to Wooyoung’s is now vacant as well. Wincing at the grinding of his joints as he moves from his position, San climbs up onto the couch and leans into the armrest a little. He’s pretty sure he needs a solid stretch to get his limbs to function properly again. 

There seems to be a lot of commotion going on in the living room, San remembers Yunho saying something about giant party games sometime earlier in the night, but he has no interest in joining in now, too preoccupied with whatever it is that’s going on between him and Wooyoung at the current moment. 

The couch dips beside him and he turns his head, expecting to see Wooyoung back from the bathroom but a different familiar face greets him instead. Yeosang is looking at him with narrowed eyes. The blond of his hair is silvery in the blue lights of the game room. San blinks as Yeosang leans forward just slightly.

“What’s going on between you and Wooyoung?” He asks. San can’t help but smile, admiring the way Yeosang seems to always be straight to the point. He contemplates telling him everything—how they met and what they’d done—but he gets the impression that Wooyoung would enjoy the anticipation of spilling his secrets to his roommate in a more private setting. So he leans back into the couch and shrugs. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

It’s not exactly 100% a lie. San is truly very confused about what even is going on between them at this point. It feels like a game but it also feels entirely too real to just be a game. He thinks maybe Wooyoung is enjoying stringing him along, not telling him anything and seeing what he’ll do next. 

Yeosang huffs. “Liar.” 

Wooyoung chooses that exact moment to slink back into the foray. He slides into the little space between the couch and coffee table and looks between San and Yeosang and then unceremoniously plants himself down on San’s lap. 

San feels his eyes widen in surprise but one look from Wooyoung has him schooling his features into something cool. He watches a little amused as Yeosang furrows his eyebrows and leans away, seemingly entirely offended by the display they’re putting on for him. 

“Wooyoung, you don’t even know him,” Yeosang says, a panicked little squeak coming out at the end. Wooyoung though, is entirely unfazed by any of this and he leans into San’s chest, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing himself into him. San feels the fluttering return to his stomach and can’t resist looking down at the raven haired boy perched in his lap. His eyes drift to him in an almost magnetic way. 

“Oh, you have no idea Yeosangie,” Wooyoung says, voice low and slightly husky. He leans over a little and taps his forefinger to Yeosang’s nose, dragging out an exasperated little sound from the other. And then, with a frustrated little huff, Yeosang gets up and leaves the room. 

San watches him stomp off and then turns back to Wooyoung who is already looking down at him. His eyes are lidded and the smile curling over his lips is teasing. It makes San’s stomach stir in a strange way. 

“I think he’s cute when he’s a little angry,” Wooyoung all but whispers, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. San traces the movement, heat rising from his chest at the action. 

“He’s pretty cute in general,” he quips back; and though his reply had been quick, his brain feels sluggish watching the way Wooyoung lifts an eyebrow at his remark.

“I think I’m pretty cute, myself.” 

“I think you’re bewitching.” 

Wooyoung barks out in laughter at that, curling in on himself in high, squeaky laughter. San finds himself shaking with his own laughter, eyes never leaving the boy in his lap. He takes in the way Wooyoung bites his bottom lip halfway through and then straightens to smooth a hand over his cramping stomach muscles and dabs at the tears that have formed in the corner of his eyes. 

When he finally settles, there’s mirth in his eyes as he leans down over San again. His breath tickles San’s cheek. It’s strangely minty, like he’s brushed his teeth just recently and not chugged an entire bottle of bubbly champagne. “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

“Come on,” he then says, hauling himself off of San’s lap and pulling him up as well. San stumbles a little on his feet but feels himself following without a second thought. 

They end up back in the kitchen and San has a second of clarity where he worries Wooyoung is going for another bottle of champagne, but he sighs in relief when the other heads for the cooler of waters situated on the counter instead. He pulls one out, uncaps it and takes a long swing and as if teasing him, a single stray droplet of water escapes the corner of his mouth, falling down his chin and running down his neck. 

San feels heat traveling up through his body once again, the fluttering in his stomach returning full force along with it. He’s just about to raise a hand to wipe the offending water away when Wooyoung stops drinking and dabs at his neck himself. There’s a knowing look on his face when he turns back to San. He offers the half empty bottle with a raised eyebrow. 

“Drink?” 

San does drink, finding that he’s much more thirsty than he’d originally thought. He finishes the bottle quickly and chucks it into the pseudo recycling bin that Mingi has fashioned from an old laundry hamper. When he turns back to Wooyoung, the other is sitting on top of the counter, hands tucked under his thighs and legs swinging like a child. 

“Tell me, San,” he says. San moves closer and waits for him to continue, but he doesnt. He just cocks his head to the side and blinks down at him, that smug smile unwavering still. 

“What do you want me to tell you?” He probes, moving just a bit closer. He’s just an arm's length away now, tilting his own head to the side to mirror the raven haired boy’s stance. Wooyoung chuckles. 

“Everything.” 

  


San is interrupted mid sentence by a wide-eyed Yunho peaking around the doorway of the kitchen. They’re alone, Wooyoung still perched on the counter and San leaning on his knees, heads bent close to each other. Yunho looks between the two of them interestedly and then smiles.

“Countdown’s starting in a few minutes in the living room!” 

He ducks back out quickly, a chortle sounding in his wake. San moves away a little, instantly aware of how close he and Wooyoung are. He clears his throat and offers a hand to Wooyoung. The other is smiling down at him lazily still, but takes his hand lightly and hops from the counter with a light movement. 

“You’ll have to keep telling me about how boring your classes are after the show.” He’s leaned in close again, practically whispering into San’s ear. 

The living room is teeming with people. San takes a sweep of the people and notices how many of them seem to be paired up already, fingers intertwined and ready for that special moment. He spots Jongho and Yeosang standing together in one corner and can distinctly feel the tension radiating off of the pair. Yunho and Mingi stand front and center, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders and champagne flutes raised already, overly prepared to reign in the new year. 

San and Wooyoung stand off to the side, lingering in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room. Wooyoung leans against one side of the doorway and San stands facing him, undivided attention still focus wholly on the boy before him and the way he seems to be enjoying watching the excitement boiling up in the crowd of eager people. 

“Have any groundbreaking plans for the new year?” Wooyoung asks without even turning to look at him. His eyes are wandering the room, lingering for a few seconds on something and then moving on. He seems to catch sight of Yeosang and snickers a little at the awkward stance his roommate is putting on. 

San just shrugs. “I’m sure something will come up.” 

Wooyoung turns to look at him just as the clock starts counting down. The crowd in the living room counts along, getting louder and louder with each descending number.

15…

14…

“You can’t think of a single thing that you’re wishing for?” 

13…

12…

San feels the fluttering in his stomach returning full force as Wooyoung pushes off from the wall to step a little closer to him, head tilted in question.

11…

10…

“I can think of something that I’m hoping for.”

9…

8…

“Wanna know?”

7…

6…

San feels his heart thumping erratically against his chest, the roaring of his blood loud in his ears and the crowd in the living room getting rowdier and rowdier. He inhales sharply as Wooyoung takes another step closer to him. They’re practically chest to chest now. 

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

“Happy New Year!” 

Wooyoung’s barking laughter rings out in his ears as he feels his hand being grasped tightly. San lets out a noise of indignation as his feet move on their own accord, following Wooyoung who moves to the hallway closet and throws open the door. 

“Come on, grab your coat!”

There’s a frantic excitement in Wooyoung’s voice as he wrenches his coat out of the closet. San follows, blinking in confusion but doing as told. He hastily pulls on his own coat and stumbles a little as Wooyoung pulls him forward as he’s shoving his arm in. 

The commotion in the living room is still loud and strong, voices pitching high in excitement new years greetings being tossed around at each other happily. San pats at his pockets to check everything he needs is there and follows as Wooyoung pushes open the front door. 

The noise outside somehow seems much more deafening than the clamour of people inside the apartment, and as the door shuts with a loud thunk, the two are bathed in the utterly tiny muffled noises of the party behind them, separated by a mere wall and a door. 

San turns to Wooyoung expectantly, frowning in question. The other has his eyes closed, taking deep breaths of the frosty night air and looking to be blissfully at peace. San openly stares at Wooyoung’s profile, puffs of his own breath clouding the space between them and creating a strange kind of illusion. 

When the other finally opens his eyes and looks at San, a jolt of electricity runs through his gut, travelling through to his fingertips. He feels the hairs on his arms standing up at attention and watches in awe as that smile comes back to Wooyoung’s face. It’s different this time though. Although it’s distinctly darker outside, his smile seems to shine that much more, lighting up the space around them. 

"Let's get outta here," he says and takes a hold of San's hand. His fingers are still warm and somehow fit perfectly in his own hand, molding together as if they belong. 

"Where are we going?" San asks as Wooyoung pulls him down the stairs. His heart seems to be thumping along to the steps of their feet, echoing through the stairwell loudly. He can just make out the celebrations of other families and parties of people as they pass each floor, bright in nature but far enough away for it to be just muffled background noise. 

"I know a place."

And it's probably not meant to sound ominous at all, but San can’t help but feel the slight shiver of anticipation running down his spine. The streets are empty as they pass through the residential area but when they emerge onto the bigger streets lined with shops and restaurants, the bustle of the city comes alive. Wooyung lets out a small sound and San watches as a big smile stretches over the boy's face. 

They don't have to go far, just a few minutes down the street, Wooyoung stops in front of an old flipped one story warehouse. The front of the building is covered in a giant mural of rice paddy fields and the glass entrance door is propped open. The sign above the door reads Mak Bar. 

"You've probably never been here before," Wooyoung starts, turning to him. "But I can promise you they have the best _makgeolli_ 1 in all of Seoul." 

San chuckles at the way Wooyoung seems to be bouncing with excitement. He leads them both inside, stepping into the doorway. There's a waiting area and a host station just inside, but there doesn't seem to be a wait. The host leads them down a long hallway and through a set of doors. An elevator welcomes them, doors wide open with a smiling attendant inside. Much toSan's surprise, the elevator doors close and carry them downward. He turns to Wooyoung who seems to be watching for his reaction and raises his eyebrows. The other doesn't reply. 

Once the doors open, they're met first with noise. It's the typical noises that fills any food establishment: chatter, utensils clinking, pop music weaving through the walls. He doesn't see any tables, just a few brick walls separated by what seems to be hallways but when the host leads them to one of the hallways, he realizes that there are booths of tables, each separated by a brick wall. When he looks up, he realizes the walls aren't full height either, just tall enough to give a semblance of privacy for each table. 

They're led past a few tables and seated in a booth. San doesn't realize it until Wooyoung lets go, but their hands had been clasped together this whole time. A flush creeps up into his neck and face as he settles in the cushioned seat of the booth. They order water and the original Mak Bar _makgeolli_ and a few food items and then when their server leaves, San finds himself looking around at the place in slight awe. He's definitely never been to this place before, and neither has he ever been to a place quite like it. 

"It's nice isn't it? You can't see it, but there's raised platforms above this room. It's how the servers and hosts get to the different parts quickly. Pretty genius in my opinion." Wooyoung explains, pointing up to the dark exiting that San can’t even make out. He narrows his eyes. 

"How do you know this? Do you work here or something?" 

Wooyoung sits back in his seat and smiles knowingly. And just as he opens his mouth to say something, another voice cuts in to interrupt him. "Wooyoung!"

When they look up, there's a man who looks slightly older than them. He's got sharp features and his hair is long and pulled up into a bun atop his head. San blinks in slight recognition at the somewhat familiar features. "Hey, hyung."

“Why hello little brother. Fancy seeing you here at such an ungodly hour,” the man says, reaching over to ruffle Wooyoung’s hair familiarly. Wooyoung bats at the man’s hands, face scrunching up cutely. “And who might this young, handsome man be? I don’t think I’ve seen this one before?” 

Wooyoung lets out a high whine, reaching out to punch the man lightly in the arm. “ _He’s_ got a name you know, and no I haven’t brought him here yet.”

“San, this is my brother,” Wooyoung introduces, playfully rolling his eyes as his brother knocks at the top of his head. 

“Hey, I’m this little brat’s older brother, Jinhyuk.” San shakes Jinhyuk’s outstretched hand, slightly rough and calloused from hard work, no doubt. 

“You own this place?” He asks, and tries not to make himself look like an awestruck little boy. Wooyoung’s brother nods. 

“Built it up from the ground. Thanks to this kid,” he answers, reaching over to pat Wooyoung’s head again, except the other catches his arm and manages to smack it with a sudden ferocity. San and Jinhyuk both laugh, watching as Wooyoung’s lips pout out into a cute frown. 

“I made a mistake, maybe I should have taken you somewhere else.” 

San can’t help but be entirely smitten by Wooyoung’s pseudo angry expression. He has his arms crossed over his chest like a little kid, sunken down in his chair. Jinhyuk throws back his head in laughter again. “And go pay for gross store bought makgeolli? You wouldn’t dare! And it’s free? I wouldn't dream of it, kid.” 

Then he turns to San. “Enjoy your time with this gremlin, though I’m not sure why anyone would ever enjoy being with him.”

Wooyoung barks out in protest once again and Jinhyuk just waves a hand and walks away. San bows respectfully and when he turns back to Wooyoung, finds that the other is already shaking off the encounter with his brother. “He’s stupid.” He grumbles.

San chuckles. “I think he’s nice. It’s nice that you guys seem to get along.” 

Wooyoung shrugs. 

Their food and drink arrives promptly, and San has to stop himself from going ravenous at the crispy edges of the _jeon_ 2 and the golden edges of the tofu. Wooyoung doesn’t seem to share any interest in the food and immediately pours himself a bowl of the _makgeolli_. Then he fills San’s bowl and holds his up between them, a smile finally forming on his lips. 

“To a new year and a new friend.” 

San can agree to this and so they say cheers. At the first sip of the milky alcohol, San’s eyes go wide. The creamy semi-sweet flavor seems to coat his entire mouth, the slightly tangy aroma of the wine mixing and blending effortlessly with the rice flavor. The warmth of it soothes as it travels into his stomach, settling lightly and making his mouth water even more.

“Good, isn’t it?” Wooyoung asks, having downed half his bowl of the wine already. “They make it in house. There’s this really great farmer out in Gyeonggi who sells the rice to us at a discounted price. It’s the sweetest rice we’ve ever tasted.” 

San marvels at how proud Wooyoung seems of all of this, and in retrospect, he’d probably be extremely proud too. “That’s pretty amazing, Wooyoung.” 

He shrugs again, grabbing his chopsticks and tearing at a piece of jeon. “Hyung’s always wanted to start a _pocha_ 3 and when I suggested he move out here to do it because there weren’t any good ones nearby the university, he agreed. He took one good look at this old warehouse and put all his savings into it in a heartbeat. Mom tried to talk him out of it but Dad was supportive from the start.” 

This is the first time San’s heard Wooyoung talk so much. His voice is nice, higher pitched than his own and full of whimsy in every intonation of a word. “My little brother, Kyungmin, thinks the _makgeolli_ is milk.” 

Wooyoung laughs and San laughs with him, unable to get the fluttering in his stomach under control. Wooyoung empties his bowl and pours himself some more of the wine. San grabs his chopsticks and takes a bite of the tofu. 

“Why don’t you tell me a little more about your business stats professor? Or about that obnoxious kid who lives in your apartment?” Wooyoung asks, wicked lilt of a smile coming back full force. 

“That obnoxious kid is your roommate’s boyfriend.” 

“Ah, they haven’t even made it official yet.”

“Touche.” 

Wooyoung’s laughter is addictive. The more San hears it, the more he just wants to keep listening to it. He likes the way it pitches higher than he expects for it to. He likes the way it almost rasps out of Wooyoung breathily. He likes the way that big smile looks on him. 

“Why don’t you tell me about some stuff this time? Switch it up a little,” San finally manages to say as he takes another sip of the wine. Wooyoung tilts his head up, studying San with narrowed eyes. 

“What is it you’re trying to find out?” 

San leans forward, chopsticks in one hand. He picks at a piece of _jeon_ , brings it to his mouth and doesn’t tear his eyes away from Wooyoung as he places it on his tongue. He chews slowly, deliberately, swallows so that his Adam's apple bobs intentionally. Wooyoung tracks every movement with keen eyes, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything,” San replies. 

The burst of laughter between them is loud. San watches in amusement as Wooyoung all but throws his body forward and then leans to the side, clutching at his stomach and breath rattling in his lungs. He feels his own embarrassment crawling up his chest and cheeks, laughter shaking his shoulders and making his eyes water. 

“That, my friend, was some very sexy _jeon_ eating,” Wooyoung says after finally managing to catch his breath. 

San wipes a stray tear from his eye and sits up straight. “But I’m serious. I want to know everything, just like you.” 

Wooyoung contemplates these words for a bit, pokes at some tofu and then licks the tips of his chopsticks. San’s gut clenches in something dark. “How about this?”

“We both take turns asking questions. You don’t wanna answer, you drink. Back and forth until this,” he taps at the pitcher of _makgeolli_ , “is gone.”

"Deal, I get to ask the first question," San immediately answers, refilling his bowl to the brim and taking the smallest of sips. Wooyoung raises his hands in defeat, gestures for him to go ahead. "What's your favorite color?"

The sound is so loud and shrieking that San reels back, lost for just a split second before he realizes it's Wooyoung's laughter. "That's your amazing first question? Dude, what the fuck?"

He dips his fingers into his bowl of _makgeolli_ and then draws it back and flicks the liquid at San, making him shrink back with a loud bark of protest. "You, sir, get to drink for that question."

San rolls his eyes and takes a sip as Wooyoung laughs some more. "Are you gonna answer the question?"

Wooyoung huffs and sighs and then smiles cheekily. "It's whatever color you're wearing at any given moment, babe. My turn!"

San flushes, sputtering as Wooyoung points and laughs at him again. He voluntarily takes another ship of the wine and takes a bite to hide his flustered state, though Wooyoung doesn't seem to be fooled at all. 

They take turns asking questions. It's a long conversation filled with more addicting laughter and lots of swearing. San refuses to answer when Wooyoung asks him to tell him his "deepest, darkest secret," only because if he had to at that exact moment, it would be how much he loves watching the pretty smile blossom over Wooyoung's features. 

Wooyoung also refuses to answer a few questions, one of them being: "Can you count on one hand the number of people you've dated?" Wooyoung goes a little quiet and shakes his head, then takes a long gump of his wine. San is a little worried that he's ruined the mood, but the other bounces vscn quickly, poking and prodding at San's life and interests. 

He almost chokes though when Wooyoung confidently answers his next question.

"Have you slept with anyone since you slept with me?"

His gaze is lidded and sends shiver down San's spine as he replies, "No. I haven't been able to make myself get into bed with anyone else, knowing that they wouldn't be able to fuck me as good as you."

San works up a coughing fit at those words, having been in the middle of chewing on some fries. Wooyoung watches him in amusement as he takes large gulps of water and chuckles when San rubs a hand over his face and through his hair.

"You're cute when you get flustered," the other states as he leans over the table to look him in the eye. "And I meant what I said."

Something about this exchange creates a shift in the atmosphere. They sit in silence together for a while. It isn’t uncomfortable, but quiet. The sounds of the people all around them are still loud but San can distinctly feel the quiet boring in on him. Wooyoung must feel it too though, because in the next moment, he’s sliding out of his seat and holding a hand out to him. 

“There’s a place I want to show you, if you would like?” 

  


The frigid January cold has started to settle in the wee hours of the night. There’s still celebration going on all around them. The noises of drunk people in the streets, shouting off of balconies and their cheers growing distant into the night as San and Wooyoung walk. They're headed in the direction of the university campus, San realizes after they pass the cafe he frequents on his early mornings. 

They walk in relative silence, Wooyoung asking about Jongho and Yeosang at one point but not prodding. San shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket to keep them from the cold and to curb the feeling of wanting to reach over and clasp Wooyoung's hand in his own again. He wants to feel their fingers blend together perfectly once more, but he's afraid of being too forward or abrasive, though something in the back of his mind is telling him that Wooyoung probably wouldn't mind. 

He's not sure if they're actually on campus or not until he sees a banner of their university logo on one of the light poles. Wooyoung walks them towards the southside park that borders the south campus. He's never personally been in the park and a tiny voice that sounds strangely like Jongho wonders if he's being led to his death. It must be his own voice though because Wooyoung chuckles and turns to him. His eyes sparkle against the darkness of the night, reflecting the streetlights that line the sidewalk. 

"I promise I'm not gonna murder you," he says, rolling his eyes. San presses his lips together, smile blossoming on his face, embarrassment rising once again. "You know, that dimple is probably the thing that wrecks everyone."

Wooyoung's cold finger comes up to poke at his cheek, eyes turning to crescents as he laughs cutely. San croaks out and instinctively leans away as the cold appendage makes contact with his already chilled skin. "Yup, it's definitely that dimple."

"Your hand is cold." Is what San comes up with as Wooyoung's laughter keeps ringing in his ears. The other takes a step forward and smiles big with all of his teeth.

"Would you like to warm them up for me?"

San isn't sure what kind of demon possesses him at that exact moment, but he doesn’t flinch as he reaches forward and takes Wooyoung's chilled hands into his own warmer ones. He vaguely registers that his hands are larger as he pulls them up to his face and blows into his cupped hands then rubs the other boy's hands between his, friction turning to heat. Wooyoung looks on with a mildly surprised expression on his face and something that San can't place a finger on. The small smile doesn't leave either, twitching up at the corners. 

"Or maybe it's just you." Wooyoung says, tilting his head a little and gazing at San in that way that he can't place. 

"What are you saying?" He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. He brings their hands down, fitting his fingers between Wooyoung's and shoving them into his pockets, hoping the warmth will seep into the other's hands a little faster. 

Wooyoung just laughs and watches him for just a second longer and then as abruptly as any other time, Wooyoung wrenches himself free from San's grasp. "Come on, it's just up this road."

San watches as the raven haired boy deftly walks away from him, a slight bounce in his step as he gets further. San shakes his head, feeling the ghost of Wooyoung's fingers sending tingles down his spine. He jogs to catch up with the other, calling his name and all but being punched in the gut when Wooyoung turns with that blindingly beautiful smile. The highs of his cheeks and the tip of his nose are blossoming with the prettiest shade of pink, a shade that San finds he's not unfamiliar with. 

"Keep up, slowpoke!" 

San rolls his eyes. "I'll have you know, slowpoke is an excellent Pokemon!"

Wooyoung squeals in laughter and starts running, himself. The path winds down through some trees and then opens up to a tennis court. San and Wooyoung both slow to a stop before it. A tall green fence rises up around the court and what appears to be light poles stand on either side, but no bright lights shine down on the courts. San jumps a little as he feels Wooyoung take his hand again. 

"Come on."

The fence opens up mid court and Wooyoung leads them through the darkness to the far end. There isn’t a single soul in sight and with no lights, the world feels entirely empty; like it’s just him and Wooyoung. He finds that the thought of it is exciting, but also absolutely nerve wracking because there’s a gorgeous boy and he has him all to himself with no idea what comes next.

When Wooyoung stops, they’re standing in front of a small set of metal bleachers. He tugs San’s hand once again and they climb up the few steps onto the second to last set of seats. “Brace yourself, the seat is gonna be fucking ice on your ass.” 

San tries, but flinches when his butt makes contact with the metal bench. Wooyoung whines a little beside him as well, at last pulling his hand away from San’s to rub them together to create whatever heat he can manage. It’s probably stupid of them to even be out in this weather, in the cold with an inadequate amount of clothes on. 

“We’re gonna freeze to death,” San blurts, his brain to mouth filter obviously having had enough for the night. Wooyoung chortles. 

“Probably. But, hey, at least I'm getting to die sitting next to the best dicking of my life.” 

San shakes his head as Wooyoung’s breathy laughter rings out in the open darkness. “You’re insane,” he says, rubbing a hand across his face at the warmth that Wooyoung’s laughter spreads in his stomach. He’s not so sure he’ll die from the cold—not when Wooyoung is warming him from the inside out with his smiles and his laughter and his wonderfully inappropriate dick jokes. 

“No compliments back? You’re just gonna sit there and act like I’m not the best piece of ass you’ve ever gotten?” 

The other sits up a little straighter, hand clamping down on San’s thigh a little forcefully. He raises his brow at the action, tilting his head and Wooyoung meets his gaze in challenge, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip. After a moment of their silent staredown, San backs down with a shrug. 

“Your ass might be a national treasure, but that bratty energy is not making it easy,” he concedes. Wooyoung squawks in laughter, leaning into him.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to be easy. That wouldn’t be any fun, would it?”

San thinks about it and comes to the conclusion that no, he doesn’t want it easy. He doesn’t want it any other way than right here, just like this, in this exact moment. Wooyoung leans back and rests his head against the cold metal of the bench behind them. 

“There aren’t ever really any stars here, but sometimes, on a clear night you can just make out the brightest ones, glimmering through all the haze of the city, shining through the brightest man-made lights,” Wooyoung says. His voice is smaller, calmer now. When San turns to him, he’s gazing, heavy lidded, up at the sky with a content little smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“This is my thinking spot. I come here when I need to just block out the world and think.” He points up at the light poles. “Those haven’t been working since the day I found this palace, as if the universe was welcoming me here. It’s like telling me that I can have this, this one place for myself.” 

He chuckles. “Yeosang says it could be the opposite. That it could literally be the universe saying that this place is weird and creepy and I shouldn’t come back. I brought him here once, just in case one of these days I get mugged or something on my way here. If no one knew about this place, no one would even think to look here, right? So I brought him here just to show him around.” Another small laugh. “He hates it. Says the metal bleachers are too cold at any given time and day.”

San can’t tear his eyes away, yet again. Wooyoung knows he’s staring down at him intently, probably with the dumbest little expression on his face, but he doesn’t falter. “But I like it here. It’s quiet and sometimes—not all the time—but sometimes I can see the stars and that’s good enough for me.” 

There’s that expression again on Wooyoung’s face; the one San can’t even begin to understand. His eyes are glistening like little stars are littered in the dark depths of them and he’s got his hands tucked under his arms and San can just make out the little shiver that runs through his body. And beneath all that, there’s something more that San doesn’t understand. 

How can he? He’s known Wooyoung for just over five hours, but he feels like he’s known him longer—feels like he’s shared forever with him in some other, much nicer alternate universe. And he feels warmth spreading yet again as he realizes he wants that. He wants to know Wooyoung and he wants to share forever and maybe even longer than that, just being with this boy. 

“What do you think about when you’re here?” 

His voice is a little hoarse, cold seemingly seeping into his bones and finally trying to get at his insides, but Wooyoung turns to him and blinks a few times before smiling full on. “Next time when you’re here with me, I’ll tell you.” 

San feels himself moving before he even realizes what he’s going to do. His hands reach out and the axis of his world tilts down as he fits Wooyoung’s perfect little face into his hands and presses his lips to the other’s. 

They’re both chilled thoroughly and Wooyoung shivers from his cold hands, but the warmth of his mouth seeps through and San feels his entire body melt as Wooyoung leans up into the kiss, tongue pressing into his mouth almost needily, whining sweetly when San presses back even more fervently.

When they part, it’s with glaring reluctance, Wooyoung’s breath puffing warm against his mouth and every muscle in his body gearing up to lean back in. But San restrains himself, knocking his forehead against the other’s and closing his eyes to calm the racing of his heart. 

“Happy new year,” Wooyoung whispers somewhere in between catching his own breath and letting out a wispy laughter. San feels himself pulling away now, watching as the other laughs silently. 

“Would you believe me if I said I’ve been holding back all night?” Wooyoung asks, sitting up and leaning into San’s space now, that mischievous glint returning to his eye.

“No, you’ve been teasing me all night,” he retorts, scrunching his face up and playfully poking at Wooyoung’s cheek. His hand somehow tucks itself just under Wooyoung’s jaw, cupping his neck and feeling the slight warmth there. 

The other rolls his eyes. “I’ve actually been waiting for you to make a move, slowpoke.” 

They dissolve into peels of laughter and exchange light banter, in which Wooyoung insults slowpoke and San fiercely protects the Pokemon. When their own voices die out in the darkness, there’s just lingering warmth on San’s mouth. The sensation of kissing Wooyoung is dizzying and almost frightening and he wants to do it over and over again—like riding the world’s tallest roller coaster. 

“You’re so different,” Wooyoung starts, turning his entire body towards San now and reaching over to smooth down a stray hair. “You’re different from when I met you two months ago, and you’re different from what Yeosang always says about you.” 

San feels Wooyoung’s hand fluttering down the side of his face. It leaves a warmth cascading across his skin, a quaint fire dancing along the surface. “And you’re different from anyone else I’ve ever known.” 

San takes in a sharp breath as he feels Wooyoung’s hand come to rest on his chest. He’s not warm, both of them still shivering from the cold, but sparks of something hot seep in through his shirt and into his skin, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake and making his heart pound erratically. He wonders if Wooyoung can feel the heavy pounding in his chest. 

“You feel it too, right?” He whispers, taking San’s hand in his and placing it over his own chest. San marvels at the way his fingers are splayed wide and at the way he can just barely make out the steady thump of Wooyoung’s heart. “I don’t know what it is about you, San. You just click. You just fit right.” 

There’s a popping somewhere in the distance, fireworks being lit from someone’s yard probably. San silently brings his hand back up to cup Wooyoung’s face. The stars in his eyes haven’t left and he still can’t make out that expression, but he knows that Wooyoung is somehow feeling the same thing he is—the same pull that has undoubtedly brought them together again. 

“You brought me here to ask the universe if we fit, didn’t you?” 

The smile that breaks out onto Wooyoung’s face is the most beautiful and blinding thing San has seen all night. It’s as if the galaxy has somehow fit every piece of the most glorious stars into this boy in front of him and now, it’s exploding back out into the night and into space to create whatever it is that they’re feeling between them. San presses himself forward as if his center of gravity has shifted onto Wooyoung. 

“What did the universe tell you?” 

And the small giggle that bubbles up from Wooyoung is what San thinks stars would sound like—tinkling and twinkling with this bright, clear sound. The other leans in too, pressing a quick chaste kiss to San’s lips, pulling away for just a second before diving in for a deeper, headier one. 

“The universe told me my new year’s resolution has already come true.” 

“Wha—” San is all but tackled with Wooyoung throwing his arms around him and laughing. He sways both of them dangerously on the edge, but San manages to hold tight, reveling in the way Wooyoung seems to fit just right against his chest and in his arms, face buried into his neck as he laughs and then presses a kiss just below his jaw.

It’s the universe telling them that they fit. 

When the laughter subsides, San brings Wooyoung in to kiss him again and sighs at the way Wooyoung smiles into it, pressing him back and then pulling away, just to have San chasing his lips. They kiss for an eternity, giggling and swaying and enjoying every single moment until their fingers and toes are numb through and through and Wooyoung pulls back, red nosed, lips shining, and sniffling from the cold. 

“I really want to keep kissing you, but I think we’re actually gonna freeze to death,” Wooyoung says, pulling San up and pressing another kiss to his cheek. 

San follows Wooyoung down the bleachers and out of the tennis court. They stop a handful of times to hastily press kisses to foreheads and knuckles and they giggle all the way back out onto the street. And this time, San takes Wooyoung’s hand, tugging him in the opposite direction of where they came from. 

“Come on, stay the night.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes but agrees, letting San pull him in the direction of his apartment, back to the place where he truly discovered Wooyoung for the first time. He presses to San’s side, pushing him almost off the sidewalk and then pulling him back in with a snicker. 

“Only because I don’t have work in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. _Makgeolli_ is a traditional Korean rice wine. Made from rice, it has a sweet, tangy, creamy flavor and is usually paired with food, specifically jeon.
> 
> 2\. _Jeon_ is the Korean word for what is commonly referred to as Korean pancakes. It can be made with many different ingredients—seafood, vegetables, and kimchi is common. It is usually eaten during parties or vals and celebrations, but is also a common household food. Pajeon, or jeon with scallion as the main ingredient, is usually paired with makgeolli and eaten on rainy days. 
> 
> 3\. A _pocha_ is short for _pojangmacha_ , a covered tent in which many different street foods are served. Though this is the literal meaning, pocha has been modernized and can be likened to the Korean equivalent of a pub, where drinks and food are served simultaneously and are both the main menu. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! i had an interesting time writing this one, as it's my first woosan!  
> if you enjoyed it, please leave a kudos and/or a comment to show you liked it!!  
> and as always, you can find me on twitter @


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